Mightier than a sword
by WriterKos
Summary: Where does real strength come from when life takes everything away? And how does one survive a cruel test when there's no one left to fight? For the OC Challenge at the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum.
1. David Rossi's journal

_**Title: **__**Mightier than a sword**__**  
**__**Author: WriterKos**_  
_**Rating: FR18**_  
_**Parings: David Rossi/OFC**_  
_**Characters: David Rossi, the whole gang**_  
_**Genres: Drama, Character Study, Tragedy, **_  
_**Warnings: Bad words, sex, kisses and mentions of erotic literature and arts throughout the story. Death (None of the main characters)**__**  
**__**Summary: **__** Where does real strength come from when life takes everything away? And how does one survive a cruel test when there's no one left to fight? Sometimes we are saved from the crash, but what if there's no will to fight left? What if there's no healing?**_

a/n: This is my entry for the OC Challenge from the CM forum. My prompt was to write a Rossi/OC story, whose name is _**Helen Johnson – Boss from a former job.**_

I'm going to take a literary license and twist it in my own way, creating a whole new corner of a universe for my cutie.

This might initially read like a Mary Sue/Pollyana story, but please bear with me. Those used to my writing know that nothing is what it seems, and under a smile there are layers and layers of background history.

Flames will be printed out and used to fuel the fire in my weekend barbecue.

_**Chapter 01: What if…**_

_**David Rossi's journal excerpt**_

Where does real strength come from when life takes everything away?

And how does one survive a cruel test when there's no one left to fight?

Sometimes we are saved from the crash, but what if there's no will to fight left?

What if there's no healing?

Caroline's death was a cruel blow in my ego as it shoved right into my face the fact that life was running faster and faster and the dawn of my days is closer than I've ever imagined.

The years of chasing criminals have taken their tool, painting the sides of my hairline once fully black in some white and gray. The lines around my eyes have become deeper and deeper, each telling a story of a loss I have somehow survived thanks only to my sheer will of kicking life back in the kisser.

But sometimes we are granted the privilege of being thrust into a situation where everything seems to be out of our control, when life shows up with its usual bitchslapping with all nails, biting, hair pulling and we find people who dare to stand in the eye of the storm and laugh, mocking the situation despite the despair that surrounds their hearts.

Sometimes there are no words.

Sometimes there is no healing.

Sometimes there isn't even time to accomplish everything you wished to accomplish because life is too short.

There is always a tale left untold and your story might remain unwritten.

But Helen's story had a storybook ending.

This is her story.

- TBC -


	2. Shopping Mall

_**Chapter 2: Shopping Mall**_

_**David Rossi's journal excerpt**_

Every story has a beginning.

And every story needs a setting to make it happen.

And Helen's life tale – at least the part that she became an important part in my life – started in a Mall.

A Mall like many others in America where housewives rushed between picking up children from school and taking them from horse riding, swimming, chess club or any other type of torture parents might inflict children in a certain age.

There were also the businessmen and women who enjoyed the lunch hour to take a look at whatever new wares shop owners were presenting them behind glass windows, eager to take the last bit of their monthly salary away from their banking accounts.

And there were children enjoying the temporary freedom given by the ample corridors to run around screaming after hours, days, maybe weeks of forced captivity due to lack of sunlight and a drizzling rain that had kept everyone indoors during those bitterly cold late autumn days.

Rain had become a constant part of our days and had put a perpetual scowl on my face. Despite the bad weather, unsubs are not detained by weather so we had been chasing a rapist/slasher in Charlottesville, Virginia for three days. The bastard would kidnap women coming out of their jobs, gym or any other place they routinely went and blitz attack them on their way to their cars. Their lifeless bodies would be found two days later, the sexual assault signs almost insignificant when compared with the cuts he inflicted in their once pristine flesh while they were still alive to feel the pain.

This kind of monsters always kept the team on the edge and this one wasn't an exception. There was a hardness in everyone's eyes that meant serious business and we were all eager to have the chance of getting our hands around that bastard's neck and squeeze – slooowly – or at least put a couple of holes in his flesh.

But that wasn't going to happen until we were actually able to _catch_ the son of a bitch, if you may pardon my French. So we had worked around the clock – Garcia had even slept at the office while she kept her babies running searches we had asked for - and finally we put together a basic profile on the guy.

When we knocked in his door, he wasn't there but his latest victim was, black and blue thanks to his tender touch but still alive. We chartered her to the hospital but, before she left, she was able to give us an important piece of information.

He had told her he was going to the mall to buy her a gift. He even mentioned the name of the place.

So we put some uniforms to keep an eye at the house just in case we missed him, jumped into our SUVs and drove like crazy to the place we knew he was.

And that's where we found him.

And that's where we met Helen.

_**end of excerpt – **_

CM CM CM CM CM CM

_**Some Friday in late October**_

_**Charlottesville, VA**_

_**01:12 pm**_

The dining area of Barracks Road Mall was bustling with activity as the workers of the surrounding offices walked around hunting for a place to sit with their lunch recently bought. Once a spot was free, there was a rush to get to it before another person stole it from them.

There were also several soccer moms' with their children, screeching at the food fight a couple of kids had started with their French fries from their Happy Meals.

There were also several single people just sitting, eating by themselves as they checked their e-mails and updated their status on Facebook on their phones or they might be just checking in on Foursquare.

And right at the middle of the wall there was a lonely figure hunched over a laptop typing in a frantic pace. Three extra large cups of coffee at the right side of her computer fought for space with several books on criminology and psychology which were spread over the surface of her table. Her gaze did not waver from her screen as she typed, totally focused on whatever she was doing as she absolutely ignored the coming and going of the lunch break mall visitors or the shrill screaming of the kids just a couple tables to her left. A black computer backpack occupied the seat beside her, the open zipper showing a map of Charlottesville and a guidebook on the touristic places of the city popping out of it.

Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail, her face scrunched in a totally focused look as she worked nonstop in her project. Her baggy sweater had the logo of some unknown community college somewhere in Arizona, completely obscuring the shape of her upper body. It was hard to say if she was fat or skinny, but she was definitely petite. Her oval face had deep green eyes in it, topping a delicate pointy nose that many had said that reminded them of a pixie, image accentuated by the slightly pointed ears supporting delicate white frames of her reading glasses.

Soft jazz music from a long dead singer filled the air, mixing with the buzz of the conversation of several voices whispering in the background. But all that was ignored by the lonely blonde figure typing away, lost in the world of words as she wrote slowly bobbing her head to the music blasting from her headphones.

Sometimes she would move her hands away from the keyboard and take one of the coffee cups, shake it to see if there was anything in it. If there was, she would take a sip of it, if there wasn't, she would push it away and go to the next cup and repeat the same move, until she could have a little of the precious black liquid.

Sometimes her typing would stop and she would stare blankly ahead, lost in her own mind, bobbing her head to the music only she could hear. However her inactivity would soon end and she would go back to typing, her focus back on her laptop as she typed away.

"Are you really going to do this to me?" Eric asked, looking over her shoulder at what she was typing.

"You wanted some action, you said it yourself. So I'm going to give you some action." Helen muttered in a low voice, keeping her eyes at the screen and not even bothering to look at him.

"But wasn't it enough that you put the Koreans chasing me at the docks and I had to escape swimming in freezing cold water? Now you want to have them put a bomb in my office building and I still have…"

"Stop whining, Eric. That's not manly." Helen Johnson whispered, vaguely noticing the strange looks an old lady sitting in hearing distance was throwing in her direction. "Now go pester someone else, I have to finish this scene."

"Okay, I'll go. But you're not going to kill me, are you?"

"I haven't decided yet. Now go."

"But…"

"Bugger off!" She hissed at him, noticing the old lady making a sign of cross on herself and leaning to talk to her friend, all the time pointing to her.

Helen ignored the old lady and went back to work, her fingers hitting the keys with precision as the story took shape before her eyes.

CM CM CM CM

"_There was no escape. Their situation had become dire in a matter of seconds. The danger that everyone in the building was soon became a roaring lion at their gates, threatening to consume them whole as the waves of intruders flocked into their walls spreading terror and death." _

CM CM CM CM

The BAU SUVs stopped abruptly at the entrance of the Mall, unloading the agents who rushed to the doors of the mall at the same time that four other police cars stopped behind them.

Hotch directed Morgan and Prentiss to go with a couple of LEOs through the side entrance, while he and the rest of the team spread out through the main entrance. With Ross Gray's picture in hands, they slowly combed the area, trying to find their unsub before he took off with another victim.

It was a difficult situation, as there were too many civilians around and the risk of things going sour increased exponentially with every passing second. According to their profile, Gray was a violent and obsessive man who would not go down easily, and if confronted with the cops he would not think twice: he would try suicide by cop.

But everyone of the team wanted that man alive to pay for his crimes.

At least for a while.

So they kept their throughout search, trying to spot their unsub before anything went wrong.

But off course fate would put its little fingers in the story, twisting this plot to its own will.

CM CM CM CM

"_Eric knew the signs. _

_The calm before the storm._

_The silent period in which you stare blankly ahead trying to figure out how to get out the way of the shitstorm coming straight to you._

_You have to act fast._

_You have to survive."_

CM CM CM CM CM

The team found Gray calmly standing at the line of the Five Guys Burgers and Fries ordering a lunch for himself. As soon as Morgan recognized their unsub, he radioed Hotch and the other units informing them of his location, at the same time he took a second to look around the dining hall. He took in the several people in their lunch break, laughing and calmly talking with their coworkers, the soccer moms and their kids, the loners and the mall security standing close to one of the column a couple of feet away.

There were a couple of cleaning ladies wiping something that had been spilt on the floor, and a seven year old screaming at his mommy demanding to be taken to Burger King. The mom ignored him and was forcibly dragging him to a healthier option, Rebecca's Natural food shop, just across the room. He also took in a group of teenage girls giggling as they looked into their phones, their backpacks at their feet a clear sign that they had skipped school to be at the Mall.

His gaze met the security guard and silently ordered him to stay put, as the man had immediately gone into alert mode as he saw the increasing number of uniforms in his usually calm dining hall.

Morgan's eyes finally found Hotch's as the man led the other group of uniforms into the dining area from the other side of the hall. After he received a nod from his leader, he gestured to his own group of uniformed men and they slowly approached Gray who was paying for his food a couple of feet away. He gestured to the other customers to move out of his way, the badge he held in his hand just a small incentive when compared to the gun he had unholstered, now pointing to the back of the man at the counter.

Gray turned around with a tray in hands just to find himself surrounded by several cops, all of them pointing their guns to him.

"Freeze, Federal Agent. Put that tray down, you're coming with us."

CM CM CM

_The order came loud and clear as they stood at the corridor._

"_Freeze, Federal Agent!"_

"_What do we do now?" Jo asked Eric as he took the chance of glancing in her direction. They froze, their backs to their captor, and heard the steps of the cop on the thick carpet behind them. Both put their hands on their heads as they waited for his next move. He smirked lightly, showing that arrogant little smile that was starting to irritate Jo deeply._

"_We run."_

"_Run? Are you kidding me?"_

"_Nope." _

_As the cop was in striking distance, Eric turned around and in a quick movement kicked the gun out of the agent's hand and hit him with a direct punch, knocking the man against the wall with a loud clash rendering him unconscious._

"_God damnit, run!"_

_Jo didn't have to be told twice._

CM CM CM CM CM

It was lightening fast.

One moment the man was standing before Morgan with a tray of prime pork ribs in barbecue sauce with onion rings and all the trimmings. The next Morgan was using Gray's food as a second skin and the man was acting as a caged lion, striking the cops with an inhuman strength and jumping over their fallen bodies.

The screams of the deranged man caused uproar in the dinning hall as the danger of the situation became finally known to the other people close by immediately setting them off into a frenzy attempt to escape.

Hotch shouted at Gray ordering him to stay put but the mess was done. The agents wouldn't dare to open fire in the middle of a dining hall full of innocent bystanders and Gray instinctively knew it. He jumped right in the middle of the frenzied mass of bodies, wrestled with a cop nearby for his gun. His colleague tried to intervene and received a bullet in his kneecap, immediately falling to the floor with a shout of pain.

Once he had a gun in his possession, Gray ran to the middle of the teenagers trying to scamper away from that place. One of the girls had gone back to get her phone she had forgotten at the table and was immediately grabbed by the insane man, his fingers twisting in her long blond hair eliciting a wail of pain. He used her as a human shield and turned to Hotch and his agents, laughing loudly in a maniac way as he pressed his gun at her left temple. She whimpered and immediately started to cry, her colleagues shouting trying to run back to her side but they were all stopped by the cops who had to forcibly drag them away.

"Let her go, Gray! You have no way out!" Hotch shouted, his gun firmly aimed at Gray's head.

"I'm not going back to jail. I'm not!"

CM CM CM CM CM

_Do you think meeting one's destiny is always a Hollywood moment with soft music playing in the background? And that you will feel your senses becoming sharper as time freezes around you and you need to figure out how to get your shit together to stay alive?_

_Nope._


	3. The standoff

**_Chapter 3: THE STANDOFF_**

The air was filled with tension as Gray kept his hostage against his chest, a  
gun against her temple, frustrating any of the attempts of the surrounding  
cops of taking a shot at him. The people dining at the Mall scurried out of  
the line of fire, eager to put as much space as possible between their fragile  
bodies and the inevitable flying bullets soon to be launched by the firearms  
freely being displayed in the hands of the cops.

However, exactly three tables behind the spot where all the drama was being  
unveiled, a single blonde head kept bobbing up and down at the sound of music  
coming from headphones, its owner completely unaware of the danger she was in.

Prentiss ran to Morgan's side, helping him up and offering him a handkerchief  
which wasn't enough to get rid of all the sauce now splattered over his chest,  
neck and face.

"Are you okay?" She asked him, after almost slipping on a pool of barbecue  
sauce on the floor in her efforts to reach him.

"This thing stings," He moaned, blinking repeatedly in a vain effort to clear  
his eyes from any sauce residue temporarily blinding him, "And my pride hurts  
more than my burns."

"Oh, how badly burnt were you?" She took a step back, gently guiding him by  
his arm away from the mess of cops and people and sitting him in a corner  
table. In her visual inspection, she could verify that the skin was starting  
to become redder wherever the sauce had landed, and if Morgan's painful hisses  
whenever she touched his skin with paper napkins were any indication, it was  
also tender to touch.

"I can't believe I didn't see that one coming."

"Nobody did, don't blame yourself on this." Prentiss lifted her gaze from  
Morgan's burnt skin, taking her time to exam the standoff happening just a  
couple of feet away.

She looked worriedly at the young woman lost in her own little bubble, her  
eyes fixed on her screen, not aware of the unsub getting closer to her table.

Prentiss signaled to Rossi standing across the dining room, indicating the  
woman with a tilt of her head. He slowly nodded to her, letting her know that  
he was aware of the unwary woman sitting right in their line of fire.

"Gray, you are surrounded." Hotch said, taking a step closer to their unsub.  
"We've found Lorraine in your basement. There's no way out from this room. Put  
that gun down!"

"No, you can't stop my research. I'm not finished with her yet." He squeezed  
the girl against his chest, eliciting a yelp of pain from her. Her crying  
intensified as panic about her situation filled her mind, as well as guilt for  
having played hooky. If she had been at school, none of this would have  
happened and she wouldn't be a hostage of a deranged man.

"We understand why you did it. We really do." Reid said in a low voice,  
approaching Gray from another angle. "You were just curious. You've always  
been a curious child, and your mom always said that you should be a scientist.  
You should explore your curiosity without boundaries. You started with your  
little animals, rodents mostly. Then you went after pets. You wanted to  
understand how they were inside. But even these experiments weren't enough to  
satisfy this thirst for knowledge you had."

"Yes." Gray nodded looking at Reid with feverish eyes, "I just wanted to  
understand what kept them alive! I needed to understand how far they could  
endure until life was extinguished."

"So you went after bigger game."

"I needed to understand! Don't you see? That's all science is about.  
Experiments! You try to identify patterns by repeating over and over the same  
situation!"

"Why did you rape them, Gray?" Rossi asked, taking a step closer to him, his  
gaze briefly going to the lady a couple of tables behind him unaware of the  
situation unfurling beside her.

Gray simply shrugged, "Why should they have all the fun? I deserved some  
too."

"Do you really think it was fun to be cut after being brutally abused?" Hotch  
asked, his anger at that animal barely in check.

"All I did, I did in name of science. And none of you can blame me! It's no  
different than cosmetic testing on animals. I just did my tests with human  
subjects."

NCIS NCIS NCIS

_It's amazing how far the human body can go when subjected to extreme_  
_conditions. Adrenalin coursing in your veins, the muscles tense to the_  
_incoming danger, all signs that the body is getting ready for the threat_  
_galloping in your direction._

_Eric and Jo could hear only their wildly beating hearts as they run down the_  
_corridors of the building, aware of the danger they were and how feeble their_  
_chance to escape would be._

_They were surrounded and only with the intervention of the fickle Lady Luck_  
_they would be able to get away with their lives._

CM CM CM CM

It was over in a matter of seconds.

In one moment Reid and Hotch were trying to persuade Gray to give himself up,  
the next the teenager, in a desperate attempt to free herself, grabbed his arm  
with the gun and bit down the flesh hard, earning a roar of pain and a hard  
punch on her head.  
But the teen was desperate, wanting to go back to her parents, her friends,  
her dog, so she closed her eyes, endured his screams and beating and held firm  
until she drew blood.  
Finally she let go and was immediately thrown at the floor.

She only had a glimpse of her captor before he pointed the gun to finish her  
off, but he was stopped by a rail of bullets by the cops around them.

She screamed as he danced under fire, his upper chest riddled with bullet  
holes that immediately started to let blood run, splattering her hair, skin  
and clothing.

Her screams grew in hysteria until the sound of bullets stopped and man who  
would forever haunt her nightmares rolled his eyes and fell back on a table,  
turning it over and splashing the trays with food and drinks all around as he  
hit the floor.

She was still screaming as he gave a last twitch before his body became slack  
and stopped moving forever.


	4. Bomb

**_Chapter 4: There is a bomb_**

THERE IS A BOMB

After the shootout, it was up to the agents to clear out the mess already  
done. Hotch gestured to Prentiss to gather the hostage and keep her away from  
the fallen unsub, indicating with a tilt of his head that Reid should follow  
them so he could gently extract her witness' statement from the shocked  
teenager.

He glared at the officer who gave the order to take down their unsub, before  
approaching with Rossi the only other civilian witness in the hall. Thanks to  
a small miracle despite of the rain of bullets none had hit her which was a  
small miracle on an in itself. But, to Hotch's and Rossi's chagrin, she was  
still typing on her laptop, completely ignoring what had happened just a few  
feet away from her table.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Hotch asked the woman bobbing her head to the sound in  
her headphones, her eyes fixed on the screen of her MacBook as she typed  
furiously without showing even a hint of acknowledgment of his presence before  
her table.

She kept typing, hypnotized by the words in her screen, effectively cutting  
off the outside world with her music.

Hotch glanced at Rossi, who simply shrugged before looking down at the lady  
before them. She had soft blonde hair in a messy ponytail, a baggy colorful  
sweater loudly mismatching of her cargo pants, topped with hiking boots. There  
was an air of I-don't-give-a-damn around her figure, as her green eyes – he  
was guessing they were green – stayed fixed on her screen, her glasses  
reflecting the cold light of the led screen.

Hotch's attention briefly went to Morgan, who was now stepping over Gray's  
fallen body, checking his vital signs and finding none. He watched as the  
black man wiped his own face with a towel one of the Mall's employees kindly  
had offered him and took some of the sauce off his face. He glared at the dead  
man before looking briefly at Hotch, shaking his head and silently informing  
his team leader that the man was truly and definitely dead.

The BAU team leader touched the woman's shoulder, trying not to grimace as she  
glanced up at him with glazed eyes, confused as why he would bother her at  
that moment.

"What?"

"Ma'am."

"What?" She asked louder, almost shouting.

Hotch, enervated, leaned over and simply slipped the earphones out of her  
ears, the music blasting away making her blink confused as she finally hear  
him.

"Oh, yeah… sorry for that. How may I help you, sir?"

"You need to move your things, ma'am, and come with us." Hotch said in a calm  
voice, trying not to set her off.

"Why?" She bit her lip, briefly glancing at her books and empty coffee cups on  
the table.

"This is a crime scene now."

"Ah… crime scene? Why…" She finally looked around, her gaze finally  
settling on Gray's body just a couple of feet away from where she was sitting.  
She jumped up, startled, "Holy shiiiitttttt… is that a dead guy over  
there?"

"Ma'am," Hotch's patience wasn't much in normal day. And it was becoming  
thinner and thinner as the seconds tickled by.

"We have to call the cops." The blonde woman said, immediately reaching over  
to her backpack.

"Ma'am…" Hotch tried very hard to resist the impulse to roll his eyes.

"I have my cell phone somewhere in my backpack. You go and call the mall  
security." She waved a hand in the air, still digging around her backpack. She  
gave an excited little cry when she found the offending piece of technology,  
immediately typing her password and searching the phone function to call the  
cops.

"Ma'am. I am a cop." She looked at him startled so he showed his badge to her.  
"I'm a federal agent."

"Oh… but what are you doing here?" She stared at him for a moment, before  
looking over his shoulder to the coming and going of LEOS and the other  
members of the BAU. She frowned at it. "What the hell happened here?"

"There was a hostage situation… _which has been handled_," he hurried to add,  
seeing the terrified look she threw around, her gaze going back to the dead  
man and the crying hostage now speaking with Prentiss.

"Oh…"

"Haven't you heard anything of the commotion?" Rossi asked, studying the  
confused look in the woman's face, her green eyes sparkling with emotion.

"What commotion?" Her eyes were a deep shade of green, expressing all her  
confusion at the situation.

"We … man, what was so important in your computer that you simply ignored  
the whole world?" Rossi's curiosity was spiked, as he had met very few people  
that could reach such level of focus during his lifetime.

The woman bit her lower lip, the action somehow making her much younger than  
her age. She twisted her hands nervously, looking to the floor as she blushed,  
"Ah… well… it's complicated, you know. There was a bomb and I was trying  
to figure out..."

"A bomb?" Hotch's voice acquired a cutting edge, the authority in it clear  
even for an uninformed person as the lady before them. She gulped as Hotch  
took a step closer, towering over her and forcing her to lean her head back so  
she could stare into his dark eyes. He didn't blink, so she blinked repeatedly  
as she stared into his.

"Ah…Yes." She muttered, almost afraid of his reaction to her answer.

"Where?" Rossi asked, already feeling adrenalin rushing all over his body  
again.

"A bomb in the building. I was trying to…"

Hotch wasn't willing to wait for her to finish. He immediately turned to  
Prentiss, who had at some moment approached them and was standing by watching  
curiously at the interview with the witness. "Prentiss, call a tactical alert,  
inform the anti-bomb squad that we have a situation."

Once given the order, she immediately opened her cell phone and relayed the  
info, silently nodding to him indicating that help was on the way.

"Now ma'am, it's very important you tell us where the bomb is." Hotch said to  
the lady, who was still staring at him confused.

"Oh… it's in the building."

"Where in the building?"

"Oh… the basement. I've chosen the support columns so when the bombs finally  
go BOOM the whole structure comes down."

"Wait a minute. You _chose_ the columns?"


	5. Strange conversation

_CHAPTER 5: STRANGE CONVERSATION_

The young woman glanced from Rossi to Hotch, worriedly twisting her hands, seeing that at each word she said they got madder and madder at her for some reason she couldn't fathom.

"Oh… yes… I had to choose some place to put them. Then the terrorists came and…"

"Terrorists? Please rewind a little! Who are these terrorists? Were you coerced to do something against your will?"

"Against my will? No! I love what I do. Nobody can force me to do anything "Ma'am, please… what is your name?"

"Helen Johnson."

"Please answer our question: Where is the bomb?"

"I told you already. The bomb is in the building. In the basement."

"Where exactly did you put the bomb? We need this info for the tactical team to diffuse it."

"You have a tactical team?" She asked excitedly, her gaze going around trying to find the mythical tactical team they had just talked about.

"JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!"

"No need to shout! It's in the basement. When Eric figures out the danger he will ring the fire alarm and get everyone out before it goes off."

Rossi was feeling like they were having a conversation with the mad hatter from Alice in Wonderland. Nothing was making sense anymore. "Who the hell is  
Eric?"

With a sudden insight Reid, who at some point had approached them and was watching with an amused smile the conversation, went around the table and  
leaned towards the open MacBook, his finger sliding over the touchpad and unveiling the last screen that had captured Helen's attention for so long.

He smiled, "Oh… guys… it's a _book_."

Both older profilers immediately had a struck expression on their faces, looking at Reid as if he had sprouted a second head.

"A… book?" If Reid was a betting man, he would have made a bet that Hotch was very close to burning point, a vein tickling wildly in his forehead indicating that his boss' stress levels had skyrocket.

Helen nodded slowly, "Yeah… it's a book. What were you thinking I was talking about?"

Both Hotch and Rossi glared at her, making her instinctively take a step back. The adrenalin of the hunt was still running strong but now that they knew that  
the danger was gone their hearts were finally trying to slow down after the scare they've just had.

"It's just… a…." For once, Hotch was speechless.

"Yeah… there's a bomb in the building in my book. Eric is my main character, he's a gorgeous hunky PI who stumbled in a dark conspiracy and now he has to  
run for his life and also keep the only witness of a horrible crime alive. But now the terrorists decided to kill them both along with everyone in the building they are so they put a bomb in the basement and…"

Hotch wasn't willing to stick around to hear the whole plot of Helen's book, so he simply closed his eyes and waved to Rossi, delegating the honor of interrogating the witness to him. "Dave… ahh... you talk to her."

"What's your problem? I'm not done yet." Now that she had started, Helen was just starting to warm up to the idea of explaining her story to captive  
audience. And her stories always made her happy and all giggly inside.

"But I am." Hotch took his cell phone. "Please cancel the alarm, okay? It was a false alert."

"What alert? What did you think I was talking about… ohh gosh, you thought I was talking about a real bomb? _Gosh, are you really that dense_?"

Hotch turned his death glare on her, who gulped and blinked nervously, but didn't back down, staring at him until he simply sighed, chuckled at the  
ridiculousness of the situation and turned around and left her standing by Rossi, who was slowly shaking his head at her complete lack of awareness of  
the danger of being arrested she had been.

"What's your problem? It's just a book! Don't you like books?"

"Oh, dear. He likes books. He just doesn't like it when he is _outsmarted_ by one." He put a hand on her shoulder, indicating that she should follow him.  
She turned to her table, eager to gather her things, but Reid shook his head. "Don't worry, Agent Reid will gather your things. You just need to come with  
us so we may take your statement."

"My statement? Why?"

"It's standard procedure, Ma'am. Ah… You said your name is…"

"Johnson, Helen Johnson," Helen said distractedly, as she observed Reid putting her books in her backpack with care, after reading each tittle. He went to touch her laptop and immediately she tensed. "Hey, kid." He looked up at her, his eyebrows high on his face. "Ah… just… just be careful with that, okay? My whole life, past and future is in that thing. If you drop it I'm in hot water with my editor."

"You don't have backups of your stories?" Rossi asked curious about the lady, who he now could see wasn't as young as he had first imagined. She must be on her late thirties, early forties, if the laugh lines and discreet white hairs appearing between her blonde hair could be any indication.

"Oh, I do. But I haven't backed up this new story and I'm behind my writing schedule. I'm supposed to have the first draft to present her in… oh… two  
weeks and I'm not even half done."

"Oh… the joys of being on a deadline."

"You speak as if you know about it."

Rossi gave her a knowing grin. "I'm a writer myself."

"Really? Wow, that's super cool! What's your name? What do you write?"

"My name is David Rossi and I write about my job. I'm a profiler so I…"

"Oh… gosh! You're THE David Rossi! I know you! I have all your books! I really like how didactic you are when explaining the types of serial killers and their motivations and how previous events in a life may affect…"

"I see I have a fan, Mrs. Johnson."

"Please, call me Helen. After all, I was your boss."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh… oopsie…" She blushed, pausing as they reached the doors of the Shopping Mall. "I… my editor and your editor are kind of buddies in the Editorial business and your editor likes showing around writing samples of how a good book is supposed to be written. So she took one of your raw chapters and its finished fully edited equivalent and gave it to my editor. Then Reno – that's my editor - gave me only the raw chapter and told me to oh… correct it?"

"You were my copydesk?"

"Kind of. I was one of the test readers of your books. We were given sample copies of the book after being submitted to a copydesk to check if there's something that they might have missed. That's why I know so much about your writing. You have a very fluid way of saying things and an ample dominion of  
advanced rules of grammar and punctuation. You just tend to … oh… curse a little too much on your written speech, which is frowned up on the editorial world."

"That's… fascinating."

"Yeah, it's a small world."

Rossi opened the glass door, indicating that she should pass it and pointed to one of their SUVs. They walked in a sedated pace, soon followed by Prentiss,  
Morgan and Reid, who was now carrying with difficulty Helen's overflowing backpack.

"What type of book do you write?"

"Oh…" She glanced at him and blushed. "You know… I write... books."

"I know that. I'm asking what genre: Romance, Drama, Murder? As per your little plot synopsis I'm guessing the thriller type."

"Yeah, a little bit of those."

"You're not being very helpful. I'm sure I would like your book."

He opened the door of the SUV for her, but when he turned to look at her she was blushing brightly, her cheeks quite rosy in contrast to her normally pale  
skin.

"Ah... believe me, you wouldn't read my books."

"Why not? I'm a very eclectic reader."

Helen smiled self-consciously, sitting on the passenger seat of the SUV. "Just by looking at you and talking to you for a few seconds makes me be certain  
that you would never, ever, not even in a million years be caught dead with one of my books in your hands. Ever! Trust me, I know."

She took the handle of the door and knocked it closed, effectively finishing the conversation.


	6. Strange videos

**_Chapter six: Strange videos_**

The team arrived at the police station and guided Helen to one small conference room, leaving her there while they got together to study the strange witness they had just met.

"Do you think she's telling the truth?" JJ asked.

"That she's an author, yes, she is," Reid said as he sat down and started to exam her laptop. "At least, according to this, she organizes her files by setting, characters, plot bunnies. She has pictures and more pictures of landscapes. I think these are the settings she chooses for her stories."

"Have you read any of her stories, Reid?" Prentiss asked, seeing the focused look in his face as he checked the computer files. He shook his head, his hair moving lightly.

"I can't say I have. But then, I have mostly read technical and school books. I'm a fan of literature up to the eighteen century; I'm not much a fan of modern fiction."

JJ leaned over his shoulder, curious about the series of text files popping in the screen.

"Do you have any sample of her writing in there?"

Reid bit his lower lip. "Uhm… I'm trying to access the last file open and… ohh, this is interesting."

"What's interesting?" Hotch asked as he approached them, his gaze meeting the Sherriff before going to his own agents' sides. He was still fuming for the shootout that happened in the shopping mall, but there was very little he could do now that the deed was done.

"There's a whole bunch of files that are encrypted. It's a simple folder that requires a password to be accessed."

"Can you break into them?" Hotch asked, glancing towards the glass window leading to the conference room they had left Helen sitting by herself. The team leader could see her patiently waiting for someone to come talk to her, a bored expression on her face.

"I could try. But there is a certain number of possibilities and that would take a while."

"Is she a suspect? We've got our guy, so what's the point on investigating her?" Morgan was curious about Hotch's attitude towards the strange woman. It was obvious she wasn't very attentive to her surroundings, but then that wasn't exactly a crime.

"I don't know yet. But it's very strange that she didn't hear the shots fired in such short distance. There's something about her…"

Rossi nailed it to the head. "You're thinking that she's hiding something."

Hotch nodded. "Isn't it obvious to you?"

Rossi agreed. "Yes, it is. But that doesn't makes her an unsub. Just a normal human being."

"I still would like to follow my instincts," Hotch insisted.

Rossi raised his eyebrows almost to his airline, a hand distractedly touching his beard. "And said instincts are saying that she's dangerous."

"Or that whatever she's hiding is."

Reid finally breaks the code after the third try and freezes when a folder with several videos carefully labeled appear before his eyes. He blushes as he starts reading the titles.

"Ah… guys?" Reid gulps nervously. "I think I know what she's hiding."

He glances up at the faces of the older agents and hits play in one random file and he sees the serious glare appear in Hotch's face as the skin flick starts showing in the screen of the laptop.

"Oh, man. That's…" Morgan stops before he says something improper, seeing the mesmerized looks on the girls' faces.

Prentiss gasps at the image, blushing immediately at it. "He's… _big_."

"I didn't know that someone could do that." JJ says turning her head to the side, trying to get a better angle.

"Enough, turn it off." Hotch growls, making a signal with his head to Rossi that he should follow him to the conference room.

* * *

a/n: Small pool: What was on those videos? a) Pixar Movies b) Action movies c) things NC-17

Answers will be revealed in the next chapter.


	7. Strange interview

**_Chapter 7: Strange interview_**

He opens the door and lets Rossi enter, noticing that Helen stands up as soon as she sees them and she must know that he's really pissed off, because she starts apologizing right away.

"Listen, I can explain…"

Hotch closes the door struggling not to slam it and points to the chair, not willing to chit-chat.

"Sit down."

"I'm sorry I've called you _dense_. I had no idea of what was going on and I really thought it was funny you got the wrong impression. It's not a big deal."

"Sit down, Ms. Johnson."

She sat down like a puppet toy whose cords were cut, folding herself on her chair.

"I'm sorry."

"You're a very strange woman, Ms. Johnson."

"Helen, please. No one bothers calling me Ms. Johnson."

"What exactly do you do for a living?"

She folded her arms, scrunching her nose a little as she looked towards the team leader. "Oh. I've told you before._ I write._ A little here, a little there. Nothing prize worthy, but I have fun doing it."

"And would you care to explain to us the several porn videos you have in your laptop?" Hotch decided to go straight to the jugular, trying to catch her unprepared for his line of questioning.

"Oh…" She blushed, before apparently regaining her backbone and glaring at Hotch. "Why are you spying my laptop? My drafts are in there! You have no right! Am I suspect here?"

"Just answer the question!"

"I don't have to. I don't even know what crime I'm being held here. I've thought you wanted my testimony, which I've told you I can't really help because I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings."

"Of course, you weren't. Your videos were very entertaining, weren't they?" Rossi retorted mockingly, seeing her become incensed at him.

"I wasn't watching the videos. I was writing. _Writing_. You do know how it works, right, Agent Rossi?"

"How is that supposed to work? I just know that you have a laptop filled with porn and you were coincidentally in a scene of a crime committed by a sexual offender. That's a hell of a coincidence and, as I don't believe in coincidences you'd better give us a very good explanation otherwise you will be in trouble."

Helen stood up and started walking nervously around the room, glancing now and then to the door telegraphing her desire to escape. "But… ahh come on! That's nothing. It means nothing. Everyone watches porn someday."

"I would really appreciate your explanation about why you were in that Shopping Mall, Ms. Johnson." Hotch insisted, not willing to let go.

She stopped and leaned over the table, staring at him. "Ah… man… really? Listen… I was writing. That's all." She shrugged as if that was totally unimportant.

"That's not good enough for me, Ms. Johnson." Hotch stood up, signaling that the interview was over and leaving Helen in panic, as she watched he and Rossi moving in decided steps towards the door.

She had to reveal something, but nothing she might say would be acceptable for the FBI agents grilling her. At least she could offer a part of the truth, but even that would seem too far fetched for their narrow minded ways.

She closed her and counted until three, feeling her control slowly slipping as she heard the door finally opening.

"I blackout, okay?" She shouted, aware of the silence that followed her words.


	8. Strange explanations

_**Chapter 8: Strange explanations**_

There was the noise of the door closing again and the sound of footsteps coming back to the table. When she opened her eyes, she found Hotch and Rossi on their chairs, looking at her curiously, waiting for a better explanation. Rossi pointed to the chair she had earlier occupied, but she was too wired to sit down again so she resumed her pacing, her hands twisting nervously in front of her body.

"What do you mean, you blackout?" Rossi asked, his gaze following her movements.

"Ah… It's the writing." Helen stopped and looked at them, sincerely trying to convince them that she was saying the truth. "The world fades and the only thing that exits is the universe I'm writing about. When I'm in the mood for writing I forget to eat, I forget to sleep. I go for days just on steam until I get that scene or action part done. That's why I travel a lot and I hop from shop to shop and I pick public places to write."

Hotch frowned, "I don't see the connection."

Helen sat down again and leaned on the table, gesticulating excitedly. "Shopping Malls have closing times. There are distractions and people around that don't let me be washed away in the story completely. When it's time for the mall to close some guard will come and kick me out, reminding me that I have to leave. That way I actually get a break."

Rossi was confused by that. "Don't you have anyone that could help you with this? Family? Friends? Anyone?"

"No, I don't. I have my agent but lately his phone calls have been more screaming about the draft I haven't finished yet than to ask about how I am." She looked down to her hands. "And I'm not very good with people, so I just stick to the world in my mind."

"But that's not healthy." Rossi added gently, seeing how down she seemed to be saddened by her admission of her lack of personal skills.

Helen chuckled, shrugging lightly at him. "Ho… dude, don't I know it. But that's what keeps me writing. And I have to finish the draft as soon as possible."

"What about the porn movies? What are they about? You don't seem to be the kind girl that would indulge in that." Hotch wasn't going away from that topic until he had a good explanation, as those movies were a clash to what he had profiled of that girl.

"Indulge?" Helen stared at him wide eyed, before shaking her head firmly "Oh, no. That's not it. It's research."

"_Research_?" Hotch wasn't willing to swallow that one, so he couldn't help a little ironic tilt in his tone of voice.

"Yeah, you know, _research_." Helen lowered her gaze to the table and wasn't looking up at any of them, preferring to study the grain of the wood before her.

"I'm not following." Hotch was still confused, but Rossi seemed to finally to catch up with what she was saying.

"Wait a minute, what exactly is the _type_ of books you write?"

Helen blushed, not meeting their eyes. "Uhm… Uhm…"

Rossi felt his own lips turn into a smirk as he finally figured out the puzzle. "You write _porn_?"


	9. Strange oh holy crap!

**_Chapter 9: Strange... oh holy crap!_**

Helen finally raised her gaze from the table, looking bristly at him and pointing a thin finger at him. "The correct term is _adult erotica_."

Rossi started chuckling, but Hotch wasn't amused. "You're kidding."

Now that Helen had started, she was just getting a little bit of steam. "No, I'm not. There's a huge market out there for it. Harlequin type books have grossed out_ 23 million dollars_ in sales in the whole US. That's just the internal market, without counting the exports to Europe and Asia. I'm actually more famous in Asia than in US as some of my plotlines have been adapted to hentai."

Hotch scrunched his face as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "You write _porn_."

"_Erotica_." Helen insisted, just to receive a roll of eyes from Hotch.

Rossi was barely containing his mirth. "Uhm… and all those videos are…"

"Uhm.. research. Listen, there's a limited number of ways that one can describe the same thing over and over again. The plot lines are supposed to be simple, the variables are quite limited and I tend to hit a writer's block in the sex part because I can't repeat over and over that plug A was attached to slot B the same way in every single book. It's always boy meets girl, boy saves girl or girl saves boy then something comes up to rip them apart, wild sex happens somewhere in the middle and then the happy ending. I have to use the same formula every single time and still make it palatable to my readers and I'm not a fan of saying just that they went shakalacabang bang and wow. I like to give details, textures, colors and if I ask people what they will think I'm either a perv or they will arrest me for sexual harassment. So I stick to the videos. But then, if someone finds my collection, they immediately react exactly like you did, thinking that I'm a nymphomaniac."

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation." Hotch was completely mortified, wishing that he was anywhere but there in that conference room.

Rossi, in the other hand, was having the time of his life. He leaned forward, curious about her creative process. "But you know those movies are all fake. At least the storyline is always crap and it's more about skin than feelings. Which I'm guessing you add to your stories in order to make it more palatable."

Helen nodded, happy to having found a kindred spirit. "I know that. But I use it just to figure out how people are doing it today. Things change with the years and the names of the things change as well. There are more than 200 different synonyms for the word penis in the English language and their usage changes according to the socio-economic level of the individual. So I mostly dig around trying to find the correct lexical term to the environment I'm trying to create and …"

"So you write these stories based on the porn videos you watch and use public venues to control you writing addiction." Hotch added, willing to go back to track and into a conversation where the several choices of synonyms of penis weren't mentioned.

Helen pouted, offended. "Oh… when you say like that it sounds like something dirty."

"It is quite dirty. Have you considered what could happen if someone took a look at what you are writing over your shoulder?" Hotch retorted, seeing an offended look cross her face at that accusation.

"But my stories aren't only about sex. It's about adventure, crime, passion. There's sex because it's mandatory. The industry demands a sex scene around one third of the book and the second in the end of the second third, but it's really a formula that is followed by most of the authors. Readers know exactly what they are going to get, they just want a good escape from reality for an hour or two."

Rossi shook his head, as a tempting thought invaded his mind. He studied the blondie before him for a moment, carefully juggling the idea in his head before giving it away. "Why didn't you…"

"What?

"Why haven't you sought alternative methods of research?"

Hotch knew right away where Rossi was going with his line of questioning, so he threw a warning glance towards his colleague and friend. "Rossi."

"Hotch, it's a valid question." Rossi was smirking, not even trying to hide how much fun he was having with the interview.

Helen's gaze went from one agent to the other, not really following the conversation. "What do you mean? I don't know what you mean."

Rossi wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, trying to make his point but his innuendo went right through Helen, without hitting any marks. "You could, you know…"

"No, I don't…" She looked genuinely confused, trying to get what he was suggesting.

"Well… you could…"

"Could what?"

"You could _practice_."

"I could…" Helen's eyes became huge, as she figured out what he had just suggested, "ohhh, you mean _practice having sex_?"

"Oh Good God." Hotch had to resist the urge to facepalm Rossi. In the face. With a chair.

Helen pouted, her head shaking lightly as she looked wornout for the first time since they've met her that morning. "No, that wouldn't work."

"Why not? Everyone else does." Rossi couldn't understand what would be the difficulty. She was an attractive lady. Certainly she could arrange someone for engaging into some 'research' action.

Helen sighed, rolling her eyes at him. "But that would require a man to practice with. And men have very fragile egos: they don't like the idea of being used like that." Both Rossi and Hotch exchanged a knowing look between them while she kept explaining herself. "They want to feel cherished and loved and expect the woman to keep him in the center of his world and, besides I've tried it before and it didn't work out all right." She added the last part with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"What happened?" Hotch asked.

Helen blushed, her gaze going back to the delicate grain of the wood before herself. "Oh… he got quite offended when I asked him to stop so I could take notes. He was really pissed off at me for this and ordered me never to seek him again."

Rossi was almost chocking with unrestrained laughter. "You told him you wanted to take… **_notes_**?"

Helen nodded lightly, not meeting their eyes as she nervously picked her nails. "Yeah! My memory is not good but I remember everything I write so… I needed to write it down what he was doing and he didn't let me so… he kicked me out."

"Oh God." Hotch couldn't help the mental image, so he forced himself to keep his eyes opened in the chagrined woman and bite back the laughter.

She was looking properly saddened by the event. "Yeah, it was awful. So I actually tried again with someone else I had carefully picked for this… ohhhh hands on practice but I got the same reaction so… I gave up and decided to stick to theoretical research."

"I think my head is going to explode." Hotch glared at Rossi, who was chortling lightly at the ridiculousness of their conversation.

"But I've read a lot about the subject. And I've travelled to several different places and they have very interesting views of sex. I try to be quite eclectic in my approach."

"So you just research and write your books and… that's all."

"Basically yeah."


End file.
